Puck to my Derek
by T'Aimee
Summary: The good news? Stiles gets his first part in a play, he is Puck in the production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. And he gets to work with amazing actors he's idolized for years. The not so good news? Oberon is being played by absolutely-gorgeous-smolder-worthy-totally-straigh t-Derek-Hale. The bad news? Stiles may or may not have to kiss him on stage.


Chapter 1

Stiles hadn't expected his first audition at the Globe to actually produce anything, maybe a good word but nothing near a callback. He had gone in with sweaty palms and nervous anticipation to glimpse his idols. Stiles' heart almost dropped when he saw that 43 other actors were auditioning for Puck. He almost turned back when he saw Isaac-mother-effing-Lahey walk across to the applications desk like he was just you know not a child prodigy or some shit. 'What have you gotten yourself into this time Stiles?' He looked back down at the script in his lap that he had already gone through about a thousand times yet still felt like he was only just reading. 'These are professional actors! What are you doing here? Just because you know Hamlet by heart and worshiped the work of Irving and Siddons doesn't mean you belong here.' Stiles looked down at his number '36P' glaring up at him and fought the impulse to tear it off and leave.

"35P to 40P please standby!" A stage hand cried moving out from behind a curtain. 'Last chance to run wimp,' his brain laughed and Stiles took a deep breath and stood. "35P through 40P please follow me," the slightly pimply stage hand ushered them back to the side of the small area of stage they had sectioned off. Five people sat in the front row with a table in front of them and tired unimpressed expressions pasted on their faces as if they had seen every play ever and were not going to find a shred of new talent anywhere. Behind the casters sat a few of the best known stage actors or stage-whores as Stiles liked to call them. He recognized Lydia Martin almost immediately as well as Danny Mahealani and then his eyes ran over the not-at-all-hard-to-miss-leather-clad-shoulders and the killer death-glare-of-death that all pointed to delicious sex-god-of-the-stage Derek Hale. Stiles' mouth went dry and he dug his fingers into his palms, 'shit, shit, shit! How in hell am I supposed to act in front of my fucking wet dream inspiration?'

"36P!" Mr. Chris-THE-DIRECTOR-Argent called as he flipped through his papers, "Genim Stilinski!" Stiles sprinted on stage as if he might be able to stop Mr. Argent from saying his god-awful birth name.

"Stiles! Please call me Stiles," he blurted as he raised his hands in protest then took a deep breath and looked at the director and the other people looking at him with bored eyes. "So, do I just start... or?" Stiles wiped his sweating palms against his thighs.

"No. We'd like to ask you a few questions first," the producer, Jackson Whitmore said impatiently flipping open a folder. "So your last performance was with Beacon Hills Community College?" he intoned clicking his pen as a douchey, and very unimpressed smirk spread across his lips. 'Yeah I can already feel I'm not going to like this guy.'

"Yes, that's where I was scouted," he wavered fiddling with a loose string hanging from his shirt, not sure if he was supposed to remind Jackson that he and two other scouts had pulled him aside after his performance in The Tempest. Jackson had actually complemented him on his 'genuine emotional range', whatever that hell that was supposed to mean. Jackson's eyebrows went up then he looked down at Stiles' file again then nodded in recognition.

"Right well I hope you have prepared something for us today," Chris interrupted, giving Stiles an expecting look. He heard a laugh from his small audience and saw a pretty blonde tossing her head back as she hit Derek playfully. Derek seemed to be suppressing a smile of his own. 'Alright this is it. Time to prove your more than you look.' He took a deep breath and closed his eyes finding the character he had chosen and pulling the mask on.

"'To be, or not to be- that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

Or take arms against a sea of troubles

And by oppressing end them. To die, to sleep-

No more- and by a sleep we say we end

The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to.'Tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep-

To sleep- perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause. There's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely

The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns

That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death.

The undiscovered county, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of?

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprise of great pitch and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry

And lose the name of action. -Soft you now,

The fair Ophelia! -Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remembered.' -Hamlet,"

Stiles finished eyes on the stage, posture frozen. Then the was a 'whoop!" and they began clapping. Actually clapping. He looked up and caught the eyes of Mr. Argent who had a small smile playing at his face at he joined the cheering. The actors where cheering. Lydia Martin. Derek Hale. Danny Mahealani. Were cheering him.

"Thank you Mr. Stilinski, we'll be in contact," Chris said opening the next folder. "37P!" Stiles stumbled off stage. 'Holy shit!' he tried to steady his breathing.

"Hey you ok man?" a familiar voice asked. Scott McCall, his best friend from highschool was sporting a set of head phones with a microphone attached and a clip board.

"Dude! What the hell are you doing here? Your mom rope you into being her personal assistant again?" Stiles breathed, trying to take the attention off of him.

"Nah man, I work with the backstage crew." he said a lopsided grin spreading across his face.

"No shit man, really?"

"And I heard you up there, man that was epic!" Scott crowed hitting him on the back.

"Really?" he breathed trying to steady himself. Scott nodded then patted him and saunter off to continue his duties.

He stayed to watch a few more hours of audition and was about to leave when Derek Hale was called on stage to audition for the part of Oberon. 'Well fuck. Are my wet dreams deciding to come to life?'

"Isn't he just perfect for the part! I mean he's sure as hell built for it," the blonde who had been sitting with Derek and who had just finished auditioning for Titania, Erica if he remembered correctly, plopped down next to him. Stiles flushed a deep red.

"Uuuhhh y-yeah," he stuttered because super good smelling, beautiful people didn't usually talk to him, especially not about the star in your wildest, wettest dreams. She smiled at him with an almost predatory glint in her eyes.

"Oh Stiles the show biz needs some fresh talent, and I'm pretty sure they just found it," she grinned swinging an arm over his shoulder and looking back to where Derek was finishing a scene from some play that involved the death of the main character's family and his promises for revenge. And soon enough he was done and the crowd, which had grown in the past few minutes were on their feet clapping. Stiles joined, his mouth hanging slightly ajar because Derek-in-my-wet-dreams-Hale was walking towards him and it was only when Erica, laid a overly dramatic kiss on Derek's cheek did Stiles remember Derek had no clue who he even was.

"How'd I do?" he asked her, wrapping an arm loosely around her waist.

"Fabulously, as always," she smiled up at him.

"You didn't do too bad yourself," he said with a bored expression. Then he turned to look at Stiles. "That was amazing by the way," he grinned at Stiles. "There's no way in hell I could ever learn Hamlet's soliloquy, much less some of these other actors," he said a smirk rising to his face as he glanced back at Erica. She scoffed and hit him over the head, which he easily blocked and began tickling her. 'Oh. Oh! Of course they are dating.' Stiles mentally face palmed himself as he got up from where he had been sitting.

"Uuuhhhh I'll just go..." he trailed off as he tried to make an exit without drawing attention to himself.

"Wait- Derek stop! You- can't go yet! Ah Derek! I surrender!" Erica gasped out between laughs trying to free herself from Derek's merciless tickling. He finally stopped a large grin on his face which may or may not be causing some major- minor! Minor jealousy.

"Sorry you were saying?" Derek asked her raising his eyebrows. Erica just stuckout her tongue and looked the other way. "I think was Erica was failing to ask you was if you'd like to come and hang out with us while we wait for callbacks," Derek explained rustling Erica's hair. Stiles jaw dropped. 'You think you need to ask?'

'Hell yeah!' "Uhh sure, that would be cool," he said trying to suppress the fanboy inside him screaming to ask for an autograph or a picture with him or many more mortifying questions.

So that's how he ended up in Lydia Martin's livingroom, eating popcorn and watching Moulin Rouge while sitting next to Allison Argent and Derek Hale. No big deal.

"I bet you 20 bucks Allison will get the first call back," Cora HALE said as she came into the living room with a tale glass of something alcoholic or other. Allison blushed and looked down.

"My dad promised he'd stop doing that actually," she muttered as Cora curled into the small space next to her which pushed Stiles even closer to Derek.

"Sorry," he muttered wincing slightly because hot damn, Derek Hale put off heat.

"Well all I can say is you guys are going to be feed well this year I can promise that." she smiled and she handed her drink off to Allison.

"Shhhh! You guys are missing all of the best parts," Lydia huffed from her spot on the love seat with a very bored looking Jackson, or was that just his face? Stiles tried to focus on what was happening on screen even though he'd watched the film a million times, which didn't help when you body was half covered with effing Fairy King!

"Igottagotothebathroom," he mumbled before getting up and heading upstairs. 'Shit! Shit! Holy Mother Fucking Shit!' he thought as the closed the door behind him. 'How is this happening!? I don't understand what my life is doing right now!" then his phone began to buzz. He looked at it to be greeted but a number he didn't know. "Hello?"

"Mr. Stilinski?" the voice asked in return. Stiles sucked in a breath through his teeth.

"That's me," he squeaked.

"We like you to come in tomorrow at nine to discuss your audition. We are very pleased and look forward to working with you."

"Wha- really?"

"Yes really, tomorrow at nine."

"Thank you, really. I'll be there," he hung up and felt like he might start crying or laughing.

When he got downstairs the movie was almost over and Isaac Lahey was just walking in. 'Am I ever going to get over the dream like quality my life has taken?'

"I think I just got a callback," he said quietly to no one in particular, but Erica jumped up and hugged him.

"Omg! Ahhhh I knew you'd get it!" she squealed placing a kiss on his cheek then Isaac was there smiling at him.

"That's awesome, sorry, I'm Isaac," he said offering his hand. Stiles shook it as he felt starstruck for the countless time today.

"Like he doesn't know who you are," Scott chimed in closing the door had hanging up his jacket. Isaac looked at him and blushed. 'Wait... what?' "Like I told you man, Epic!" Scott smiled then led Isaac to a couch where they sat down together.

"Congratulations," Derek's gruff voice broke Stiles pondering about his best friend being secretly bi."You earned it," he smiled warmly at him. 'Ha! Fantastic my crush wants to be friends.'

"Thanks," he ducked his head and blushed. The rest of the night involved everyone else receiving their callbacks some not for the part they wanted but they weren't too upset overall. At around 2:17 in the morning Stiles excused himself home and Derek offered him a ride which he excepted because Stiles plus taxis equaled totally lost and large sums of money. So now he was sitting in Derek-omg-why-is-this-not-weird-Hale's Corvette as Derek Hale himself asked for directions to his house.


End file.
